He broke off in alarm, feeling his side under his flapping shirt.

My twelfth rib is gone, he cried. I’m the �bermensch. Toothless Kinch and I, the supermen.

He struggled out of his shirt and flung it behind him to where his clothes lay.

Are you going in here, Malachi?

Yes. Make room in the bed.

The young man shoved himself backward through the water and reached the middle of the creek in two long clean strokes. Haines sat down on a stone, smoking.

Are you not coming in? Buck Mulligan asked.

Later on, Haines said. Not on my breakfast.

Stephen turned away.